


freaky funeral

by StrawberrySpring



Category: Wooden Overcoats (Podcast)
Genre: Body Swap AU, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-04 09:26:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18340847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberrySpring/pseuds/StrawberrySpring
Summary: Rudyard Funn went to his bed looking like himself. He doesn't, anymore.Rudyard and Eric swap bodies for a day and things happen. Freaky Friday AU, sort of. Just the body swap part.





	1. Chapter 1

_‘I’ve finally beaten you, Chapman! I win! You lose!’ Rudyard shouted, standing on top of the statue in the square, waving the Piffling Flag, as Antigone and Georgie clapped for him._

_‘Yes, Rudyard, you’ve won, I’ve lost - after all, you’ve always been the better man!’ Chapman mumbled hopelessly, as everyone in Piffling Village booed at him._

_‘Rudyard! Rudyard! Rudyard!’ they cheered for him and knocked on the door_ \- wait, what? 

‘Rudyard!’

 

Rudyard woke up with a start. Ah, of course, a dream. He wished he could go back to sleep but someone was knocking on his door, very violently. ‘Rudyard!’ Ah, Antigone. 

‘What is it, Antigone, why are you waking me -’ 

Antigone gasped loudly. She looked like she had seen their father’s ghost. 

‘Chapman!’ She cried. ‘What are you doing in my house? And in my brother’s room? Having clearly just woken up - oh god oh god oh god -’

‘What?’ Rudyard looked at her in utter confusion. ‘What are you blathering on about-’

‘-oh my god oh my god is this finally happening no shut up oh god but what are you doing here, is this one of your tricks, and where is rudyard why did he let you -’ 

‘What the hell -’ Rudyard stood there, staring at his sister hyperventilating in utter confusion, wondering if this was just another dream, when suddenly, their door opened with a bang and someone entered their parlour. 

‘Rudyard!’ 

 

Rudyard’s mouth fell open.

 

What the hell. It was - _him._

 

The man standing at the door looked exactly like him. He did not look pleased about that. 

‘What the hell is going on?’ Antigone exclaimed. ‘Rudyard, where were you? And why was Chapman in your -’

‘A word, if you please, Rudyard’, the man who looked like Rudyard said, trying to look as calm as possible. 

‘Why are you calling Chapman Rudyard?’ Antigone looked like she was about to faint. ‘Look here both of you -’

‘Antigone, just give us a moment alone, please’, the man said to Antigone, looking at her like Rudyard had never looked at his sister ever before. Antigone stared at them. 

‘Well, I think I’m going back to my mortuary, fall asleep and wake up again and this will all turn out to be weird nightmare’, she announced, and walked away, muttering. 

The man who looked like Rudyard pushed them both back into the bedroom before Rudyard could protest. 

‘Wait! Who are you? Why do you look like-’

‘Rudyard, have you seen yourself in the mirror since you woke up?’ 

‘What - I don’t have a mirror -’ 

‘Thought so.’ The man sighed. ‘Here, I brought one.’ The man took out a fairly large mirror out of his pocket and held it out for Rudyard. 

Rudyard resisted. ‘Have _you_ looked in the mirror? Because you look exactly -’ 

‘Just look!’ 

Rudyard took the mirror grudgingly and looked at his reflection. And screamed. 

‘Keep it down!’ The man shushed him but Rudyard couldn’t stop. 

‘What the hell happened to my face? Why do I look like Eric Chapman? Is this some sort of trick? Did he send you to sabotage me? I _knew_ that man was a witch-’

‘Rudyard! _I am Eric!_ We have switched bodies! And I’m not a witch!’ 

Rudyard gaped at him, stunned into silence.

_‘Chapman?’_

The man sighed. ‘Yes, it’s me. But right now I look like you and you look like me.’

Rudyard stared at him. ‘Please pinch me. This has to be a nightmare. I can’t believe this - what did I do to deserve this?’ 

‘Well, what did _I_ do to deserve this?’ Chapman replied, looking annoyed. 

‘There is something really wrong going on-’ Rudyard said, starting to pace around the room, glancing at the mirror in his hand now and then. 

‘Well spotted’, Chapman interrupted, sounding tired. 

‘- and _you_ look strangely calm about it! You did something, didn’t you? Did some magic to steal my good looks? To sabotage my business?’

‘Trust me I don’t have to do anything this twisted to do that’, Chapman replied tartly. ‘Now look here Rudyard -’

‘Why do you look so calm about it!’ Rudyard shrieked, distraught. 

Chapman stared at him. 

‘Oh wow that is not a good look on me, remind me never to shriek like that’, he said, smiling wryly. 

‘Ugh, don’t do that to my face, Chapman.’

‘I’m smiling!’

‘Yeah, don’t. It’s terrifying.’

‘Fine’. Chapman sighed. ‘I - this has happened to me before.’ 

Rudyard looked at him, staggered. ‘What? When?’

‘ _A long time ago_ ’, Chapman repeated the words that had long become familiar to everyone around him. ‘When I was around 15, I swapped bodies with someone, it was terrifying obviously - but well, long story short, I eventually managed to swap back. So, we can do it, hopefully.’

Rudyard blinked. ‘What kind of life have you lived?’

‘An interesting one.’ Chapman sighed. ‘Now listen here Rudyard, what we need is - a bunch of white lilies, hair from a ginger cat, one sherbet lemon, a copy of Shakespeare’s Tempest, and a vial of blood. Then we need to stand under the full moon, burn all of this in a fire, shake hands on it and go back to sleep. When we wake up, everything will be the same as before. Alright?’

Rudyard stared. ‘You - how did you even find out -’

‘It’s a long story-’

‘-you know what, I’m not even going to question it. For once I’ll listen to you, but only because I can’t let you have my body as well, like the rest of my things that you have stolen away.’

‘I’ve not stolen away anything!’

‘Sure - you liar - I’d better tell Antigone about this -’

‘No wait, Rudyard!’ Chapman looked at him in panic. ‘There’s just one very important thing - we can’t tell anyone about this until this is over!’ 

‘Why -’

‘Rudyard, _please!_ ’ For the first time since this morning, Chapman looked utterly panicked. ‘You-cannot-tell-anyone! Got it? Or we’ll be stuck like this forever!’ 

Rudyard nodded shakily, taken aback and very scared. ‘Yes, okay fine got it.’

Chapman relaxed. Then he sighed. ‘We’ll have to live like each other for the day’, he said. ‘Let me tell you how my usual day goes so we can get through this smoothly.’ 

Rudyard groaned. 

‘Okay first thing, I wake up, meditate…’


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rudyard's POV

It was weird to be in Chapman’s body. The hair was too silky and smooth, the body felt too strong and the voice felt too cheerful. And the house - the house was too colorful, it had too much light, it was too clean and there was no smell of formaldehyde. But nothing was as jarring as Chapman’s life. 

It had taken Chapman almost half an hour to tell Rudyard everything he had to do in a day. And it took less than five minutes for Rudyard to tune him out. There was no way he was going to do all that! The only thing he was going to do was call in sick and sleep in Chapman’s comfortable bed all day. 

Which was what he was doing right now. After having examined his reflection in the mirror for twenty minutes. He just wanted to check if that blond hair was really Chapman’s or was it a wig…

‘Rudyard!’ 

Chapman’s angry voice almost made him jump out of the bed. Scowling, he opened the door. ‘What, Chapman?’

His own angry face looked back at him. ‘Why are you still in bed? You should be upstairs, checking up on the cafe! And you have a council meeting! And what about the ingredients that you are supposed to get?’ 

Rudyard sighed. ‘Now look here Chapman, first of all, that’s way too much work to do for a single man. Second, the more I go out, the more people will be suspicious about this because trust me, we two have very different personalities!’

Chapman shook his head. ‘Listen, I have cut down all the unimportant tasks from my list so that you can do a decent job of being me. I canceled all my funerals so that you don’t have to handle them -’

‘You think I can’t handle your funerals? Or are you just scared I’ll do such a better job that you’ll never be able to live up to them again, huh, Chapman?’ 

‘Rudyard’, Chapman said flatly, ‘we both know your funerals almost never go without a disaster happening.’

‘That’s not true…’ Though deep down Rudyard knew it was true. It still stung though. 

Chapman sighed. ‘Just this much, just these three things, smile at whoever you meet, wherever you go, and do NOT try to sabotage my business Rudyard -’

‘Yeah yeah…’ Rudyard rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t try to sabotage _mine!_ ’ 

Chapman didn’t say it, but his face said it all. _I don’t need to._  
‘Well, enjoy yourself’, he said, and left. 

 

After fifteen minutes of frisking around in Chapman’s cupboard (god, who even needed this many suits?), Rudyard finally dressed his new body in clothes he considered decent (a white shirt and black everything else), messed up the always perfectly coiffed hair for the heck of it (Chapman’s face did look much better to Rudyard that way - it was a dangerous thought, it almost made him want to mess Chapman’s hair even after they swapped their bodies back…) and put on the least shiny shoes Chapman wore. Giving the cologne a derisive look, he walked out of his bedroom and towards the elevator to go to the cafe. 

The lift, as usual, didn’t fail to amaze him. He could see his full reflection in the mirror, and once again the weirdness of the situation hit him. He still couldn’t fully believe this wasn’t a dream. 

He didn’t get a lot of time to dwell on it, however, since the lift came to a halt and the doors opened to lively chatter and calm music floating from the cafe. He groaned. _People._

He walked to the desk at the center of the cafe, where the manager, Alice, was working, as Chapman had told him to. The thirty-year-old blonde woman saw him coming and smiled at him widely. 

‘Hello Mr Chapman! You are rather late today, I was starting to get worried!’ 

Rudyard, who already felt thrown off at being smiled at and talked to pleasantly, stuttered a bit. ‘Er, yeah I - I, er, I was talking to someone…’ 

Alice looked at him knowingly. ‘Were you, Mr Chapman? I did see Rudyard Funn getting off the elevator a while ago…’ she glanced at his hair pointedly. 

What the hell was this lady trying to say? ‘Yeah great man, Rudyard, he really is. Anyway, uh, is everything fine? Do you er, need me to do anything?’ he asked, summing up everything Chapman had told him to ask briefly. 

Alice nodded. ‘Yes, everything is great, Mr Chapman! Er, Lady Vivienne did come and ask for you in the morning but I told her we hadn’t seen you....I guess she hasn’t really gotten over the breakup yet…’ Alice’s voice trailed off, but even Rudyard could tell when someone was fishing for gossip. He cleared his throat. 

‘Okay well, if there is anything else, do let me know’, he murmured, turning and then remembered. ‘Er, enjoy yourself!’ he said, in a cheery impersonation of Chapman. Alice beamed at him. 

God, it really was jarring to have people smile at you and acknowledge you and want to talk to you. As he tried to leave the cafe, he was accosted on the way by several customers, all wanting to say hi and chat with him, wanting to know what he had done to his hair so they could do too, praise his coffee, do an advance booking for their 18 year old selves (which was just not fair!). He tried his best to be like Chapman, smile and nod and say ‘enjoy yourselves’ at any possible opportunity to exit, but just half an hour later, as he was finally alone in the lobby, he felt exhausted. How did Chapman do this daily? 

Even when they had been the only funeral parlour in the town, he had never really chatted with his customers unless it had been to listen to a complaint or dismiss any flamboyant requests. The Funns were just not the type of people to do that. Even as Eric, when he had the undeniable advantage of conventional good looks and an established goodwill, he felt strangely tired. He couldn’t help but be worried - a lot of people liked this man and he was probably going to blow it. 

He exhaled. ‘So be it’, he said aloud. ‘I didn’t ask for this, and I’m trying my best, but if something goes wrong, I - I can’t be held responsible…’ 

He put his chin up, and exited the parlour. 

 

Fifteen minutes later, he found himself in the once familiar hall near the Mayor’s office where the council meetings took place. He scowled at the door as he remembered the days when he used to be a member, and how like everywhere else, Chapman had taken over. He opened the door and entered. 

‘Ah, Eric, you are here!’ Mayor Desmond stood up and clapped him on the back heartily, and Rudyard almost fell over. 

‘Yes...I am here, Mayor…’ he said as the other council members greeted him cheerfully and held out a chair for him. They used to never even acknowledge his existence in the council till he said something and forced them to! And here they all were, kissing Chapman’s ass…

‘Oh here you are, finally, Eric’, a churlish voice addressed him from the back and he turned around to see Georgie glaring at him, standing near the door. ‘Why are you late? Spent too much time styling that hair of yours huh?’

‘Georgie!’ Rudyard couldn’t help but greet his employee cheerfully; even though everyone around him today had been perfectly nice, he couldn’t help but feel most relaxed around her, even though she was looking at him with dislike etched very prominently on her face. Rudyard realized with a jolt, that even when she was angry with him, there was always a hidden softness in Georgie’s face while talking to him that was absent right now. But before he had time to dwell on that, the Mayor started speaking. 

‘We were just thinking about the idea that you came up with in the last meeting - about consolidating old Piffling records and history to try and attract some tourists to make Piffling from a village into a town’, Mayor Desmond said excitedly, as Rudyard tried his best to understand what the hell he was saying. 

‘Oh?’

‘Yes! A great idea, but we were just wondering how to go on about it’, Mayor Desmond replied, clapping his heads together, as the other council members looked at him expectantly.

‘Er…’ Rudyard realized with a sinking sensation that everyone was expecting him to come up with the whole plan. For god’s sake, couldn’t they do something by themselves? Did Chapman have to do everything?

‘Well, I was thinking, um, maybe we could er….’ 

‘Wake me up when you are finished’, Georgie muttered darkly from the back. 

‘Er...maybe we should, interview some of the old residents? For any remarkable incidents?’ Woah, that sounded like a decent idea. Great job, Rudyard. 

‘Yeah that’s what you said last time, Eric’, Mayor Desmond chuckled. ‘But we couldn’t come up with many names, except for -’

‘If I may, Mayor Desmond’, Lady Templer interrupted, fixing Rudyard with a stare he never hoped to see again after this, ‘last time Eric did suggest Mr Funn’s name, but I don’t think any of us were confident about his trustworthiness.’

_Wait, what?_

‘Chap - I mean, I suggested Rudyard’s name?’ Rudyard blurted, entirely taken aback. 

‘Oh yes’, Mayor Desmond nodded, ‘but don’t you remember? You said the Funns were a very old family and Rudyard was great with remembering stuff people have said and done in the past, but then we all sort of agreed that we couldn’t trust him -’

‘I didn’t, I think Rudyard will do a great job, if only we can keep him away from Chapman’, Georgie piped in. 

‘Thank you Georgie’, Rudyard said reflexively. ‘I mean, thanks for er, agreeing with me. I - I think Rudyard -’ Rudyard what? He was still reeling from the shock of finding out Eric Chapman, his arch rival, his nemesis, had recommended him for a job he himself never thought he was good at - where could he have possibly - oh of course, the stories that he had told about some of his own funerals, and about the Mayor -

‘Earth to Chapman’, Lady Templer’s voice shook him out of his reverie. ‘Whatever are you thinking about, Eric?’ she smiled at him flirtatiously, and Rudyard found himself looking away immediately. 

‘Er, I think we can trust Rudyard’, his voice shook just a bit, ‘I think he’ll do a good job’.

Mayor Desmond looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Well if you think so, Eric, I trust your advice.’ He turned to Georgie. ‘Is there anything else on today’s agenda?’ 

Georgie, who had been looking at Rudyard curiously, shook her head. ‘Nope, nothing, really.’ 

 

To be honest, Rudyard wasn’t entirely sure if this wasn’t some kind of prank or game that Eric was playing on him. Nevertheless, he felt his hatred for Chapman soften just a tiny bit inside him - if you could call it hatred. Slightly dazed, he walked out of the Mayor’s office, ignoring Lady Templer’s advances (What did Eric ever see in her, anyway?) and Mayor Desmond’s attempts to ask him for marital advice (What would _he_ know about marriage?) and Georgie’s attempts to trip him (he appreciated it, he really did but he also didn’t want to trip). As the sun hid behind the clouds again, he remembered the next thing he was supposed to do - visit Agatha Doyle’s shop for the ingredients for - whatever it was Chapman claimed would make everything normal again. 

On the way he said hello to several Piffling residents, four cats rubbed against him, three dogs wagged their tails at him, six children came to him either for a hi-five or a chocolate that he apparently always had on himself (he had to say no to some very disappointed kids). And, with every interaction, with every smile directed at him, he felt a hollowness grow inside him, eating away at his self. 

On his way to Doyle, he crossed the square and saw as usual, the crowd inside Chapman’s and - outside his own house, Antigone. He looked at her in surprise - he still wasn’t used to the fact that Antigone was no longer confined to the mortuary, and in fact, had a life. Before he could look away, however, Antigone caught his eye, and blushed a deep red. 

Rudyard almost recoiled. He did not ever, ever want to see that expression on his sister’s face again. But even as he thought about running away without any explanation, he saw Antigone make a visible effort to compose herself, and when she addressed him, her voice was calm. 

‘Chapman’, she nodded at him. It was weird to see his sister look at him with anything other than annoyance on the face.

‘Antigone’, he replied carefully, ‘going somewhere?’ 

‘Well, yes, I am’, Antigone replied, her gaze shifting from Chapman’s face to their house, to the street and back again. ‘I’m going - on a date, actually’, she said, even as the words came out barely audible. 

Rudyard did not have to pretend to be shocked. ‘A date?’ 

‘Oh well don’t sound so surprised! People do like me, you know!’ Antigone snapped at him. Rudyard realized his mistake quickly. 

‘Yes of course, of course that’s not what I meant...I just, I’m happy for you’, he said, trying to smile. ‘Uh, who is it?’ 

Antigone scanned his face carefully. ‘Marlena’, she mumbled, even as colour spread on her face again. ‘I - she asked me out since the circus was in town again and well…’

‘Yes, yes that’s very nice’, Rudyard nodded, still trying to arrange his thoughts. His sister, Antigone, on a date? 

‘It’s not like we are very busy anyway’, she threw a half-hearted glare at him, ‘and surprisingly, Rudyard was very accommodating about it. To be honest, he has been unusually nice today, I wonder he is up to something…’ 

‘Does he have to be up to something to be nice to you?’ Rudyard asked, a little surly. 

‘Yes’, Antigone replied with conviction, ‘well most of the time, yes. He even complimented my embalming fluid today...no one has ever really done that except for you…’

‘I - I have?’ Rudyard couldn’t control himself. _Eric Chapman complimented his sister_. ‘I mean, of course I did.’

‘I really should tell you’, Antigone looked like she was steeling herself to say something. ‘I...it meant a lot to me when you said that. And when you asked me to come work for you. And when you complimented my work...I love being a mortician but that really added to my confidence, so - thanks for that, Chapman.’ 

_when you asked me to come work for you_

‘Chapman?’ Antigone peered at his face, as Rudyard stood there, frozen. 

‘I asked you to come work for me?’ he said, throat dry. 

‘Don’t you remember?’ Antigone looked a little hurt. ‘In the cave, you said the offer was always up.’ 

Rudyard nodded mechanically. ‘And you, you refused?’

‘Well, yes, of course, I can’t leave Rudyard...it wouldn’t be fair…’ Antigone glanced at their house distractedly. ‘It’s getting really late, Chapman, I need to meet Marlena for a movie scheduled soon, I had better be going. See you around.’

‘Enjoy yourself’, Rudyard replied half-heartedly as he saw Antigone walk across the square towards the theatre. He needed time to digest this. 

Eric Chapman had really tried to take away, of all things, of all people - Antigone, his twin sister. He should be feeling furious towards Chapman but what struck him most was not the fact that Chapman had tried to hire his sister - but that his sister had refused. 

Honestly, anyone could see that Antigone was good at her job. For all their bickering, and fighting and taunting, it was clear that Antigone was rather good at what she did, and it was obvious why Chapman would want to hire her. But the fact that she had refused? Despite knowing how well Chapman’s business was going? Despite knowing that she’d have better equipments, better machines, better clients, better people to work with if she had moved, because - because of what? Him? Her brother? _Who couldn’t get one single funeral right_

Rudyard’s chain of thoughts took him away far from the square he had been standing at and as he walked towards Agatha Doyle’s shop, he found a renewed sense of affection - so rarely felt that it almost felt alien - towards his sister, and even Georgie and hell, even Madeline - for sticking with him. He knew he was not an easy man to love, and yet...

The thought used to nag him even when he was himself - he couldn’t help but be affected by how everyone seemed to like Eric, even his own sister and how Rudyard, despite having been born and brought up in town, barely had anyone to talk to, other than Antigone and Georgie and of course, Madeline. But after being Eric? The feeling amplified as he experienced everything he was missing, how it felt to be loved and respected by people and be taken seriously...something even his own parents had never had, as far as he knew. The Funns were just not made for being social, he told himself, but then his mind flashed back to Antigone earlier, how she had started going out and talking to people, going on dates movies, directing a play, and generally being much more happy (?) than she used to be before. And even that, could be traced back to the arrival of Chapman, the man who turned his life upside down. 

 

Agatha Doyle greeted him with a bright smile even as her gaze lingered on his messy hair and folded sleeves a bit too long. ‘Mr Chapman! What can I help you with today then? Another box of memento mori?’

‘Uh - what? Haven’t you destroyed the stocks yet?’ 

‘Of course, but I saved some for you as per your request!’ Agatha looked at him, preening. 

‘Ah of course I did’, Rudyard mumbled. ‘Um, well I just need Sherbet Lemons for now, if you please, Ms Doyle’. 

Agatha Doyle gave him a quick suspicious glance and then leaned down to pick out a box of sherbet lemons to hand to him. Rudyard fished out the money from his pocket that Chapman had given him in the morning and handed it to her. ‘Thank you.’

‘Any time, Eric.’ 

 

The sun had started to set as he walked back to Chapman’s. He was actually wondering how come he hadn’t seen Chapman (or himself, rather) all day when he saw himself standing at the square, carrying a few bags. 

‘Chap - Rudyard!’ he called out, walking towards him. Seeing himself wave at him pleasantly hit him with the reality of their situation again, and he tried not to pinch himself. 

‘Rudyard’, Chapman said in a low voice as Rudyard came closer. ‘Have you got the sherbet lemons?’ 

Rudyard nodded. ‘Yes, here’, he handed them to him. ‘Can we do the thing now?’ 

‘I’m afraid not, Rudyard’, Chapman sighed. ‘I’ll need some time to make the potion and it can be only done under moonlight, just a few more hours.’ He looked at Rudyard with a faint smile.

‘Blimey, it’s weird isn’t it? Seeing yourself like this…’ 

‘Tell me about it’, Rudyard rolled his eyes. ‘I have had an…exhausting day. I think I’ll have something to eat then, do call me when you are done?’ 

‘Of course’, Chapman smiled at him. ‘Oh, actually, maybe you should join us, Georgie and I were going to have something to eat as well - it’s quite nice to hang out without her glaring at me all the time.’

Rudyard looked at him, confused. ‘Wouldn’t it be weird if I just popped by to eat with you people though?’ 

Eric looked away sheepishly to smile at his shoes. ‘Of course, of course, I forgot - about all this. Well, Rudyard, see you around, then’, he looked up again, smiling at him sunnily, and Rudyard realized that Eric could actually make him smile without making him look vaguely threatening. He felt a swooping sensation in his stomach, totally unrelated to his hunger. 

Rudyard nodded. ‘Enjoy yourself, Eric’, he said only realizing what he had said as Eric burst into laughter in front of him. 

‘Oh’, Rudyard said, fighting back a smile, ‘it’s just that I’ve been saying that to everyone since the morning -’

‘Rudyard! What is he doing to you? Do you want me to come over there and kick his ass?’ Georgie’s voice floated through the open window of Funn Funerals, as Eric grinned at Rudyard in delight. 

‘No, thanks Georgie! He’s just being funny!’ Eric yelled back at her. Georgie threw a suspicious look over at Rudyard and went back inside. Eric looked back at Rudyard. 

‘It’s not just that’, he said, looking into Rudyard’s eyes, still smiling, ‘you just called me Eric.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took a lot of determination for me to write this chapter! pls comment if you liked it :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, pls leave a comment :) tumblr @ pashmina-dhaage


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